Game Over
by melodicharmony24
Summary: My take on what should have occured in Reunion II, set just after Samantha attempts to kill Jack. Samantha and Jack have not spoken in a week. She sits in secluded reflection while Jack waits to watch her unravel. Very skewed. Sexual content.


It had been a week staying in the makeshift hotel room Jack had constructed for her. Samantha was given all the privacy and space in the world, but for the first time she wanted Jack there. He brought her carefully prepared meals three times a day, all including her favorite foods, leaving her expensive bottles of red wine on the table, ice cream in the freezer, and each morning covering her room with vases full of fresh roses. At night, Jack would dim the bright lights and turn deep, softening blue lights on. Yet through all of this, he said not a word to her. Samantha slept terribly the first night after she refused to kill the hobo. Her anger, her rage, and her astonishment that she had so willingly pulled the trigger and attempted to kill Jack… she was unwinding against her own will. And Jack, after everything, had apparently decided to leave her in solitude. After admitting the vitality he had given her, Samantha had shut down emotionally, refusing to say a single thing to him. Annoyed, Jack had taken her arm, careful not to let his hand touch her skin, and escorted her to the room. He stared at her for a moment, breathed in, muttered in a muffled raspy tone, "Have you ever considered that it is also you who torture me?" and closed the door. There had been silence each day that followed. He didn't meet her eyes. Often he would find her staring vacantly out the clouded glass window, sipping glass after glass of the red wine, or she would be sitting at the kitchen table, pulling petals off a fresh rose, her eyes filled with hatred, staring up at him. On the fifth day, Jack came in with her breakfast, avoiding her livid glare as he did before. After placing the tray down on the table and turning to leave, Samantha suddenly in a strong aggravated voice said,

"Jack."

Jack did not turn to face her, but paused and lowered his head.

"Why bother keeping me here, ignoring me, day after day? Don't you have some other persuasion to try, some other game to play, some other trick up your sleeve, because if you do, you should really just stop dodging it and play your next card."

Jack shifted his weight and breathed out heavily. "I'm giving you space and time to think." He turned slowly and looked directly into her eyes. "That is something that no one ever grants you. I'm hoping that with self reflection and much needed space you will clear your mind. You earned that after all those grueling years on the VCTF, after everything you have endured- I believe that the one thing I can give you right now is time to think. You know more than I that you need that."

Samantha's eyes watered, but she did not blink. Jack turned and left the room.

On the seventh evening, Samantha had been overcome by a need to see Jack. He had brought her dinner hours ago in silence. Her attempts at reflection had turned to despair, and her emotions, rather than clearing, had become even more muddled and confused. He had never answered her most important questions, and for the first time, she really needed to hear his voice, and wanted an explanation that she could understand and even agree with. She needed answers. The lights dimmed. Samantha looked up as the air grew deep blue. Samantha had looked for cameras hidden around the room, and assuming they were cleverly hidden, she had days ago ceased to care if he saw her. Her feminine side made the idea of remaining in her soiled jeans forever repulsive, and so starting on the third day, she showered daily, using the beautiful bars of soap he had stocked the shelves with, and even shaved, washed and dried her hair, brushed her teeth, all with the luxurious products he had provided. The closet was stocked with white silk dresses for evening and white cotton dresses for day. She removed her dress and folded it, placing it on the floor of the closet, and slipped into another nightgown. She removed another pair of silk white underwear and folded these, placing them on the pile. The blue light was distracting the first few nights, but soon it grew comforting, and she found that she was sleeping very easily and heavily each night. But tonight, she was full of anxiety. She looked desperately for a camera to plead to Jack in.

From the control desk, Jack watched the monitor as Samantha searched the corners of the ceiling. His fingers stroked the screen. "Samantha… over here." He smiled at the screen as she wandered around the room. Finally, Samantha stopped in the middle of the room, looking one way and then the other, not sure where to steady her gaze. She decided on the door.

Samantha looked at the door, hoping he was waiting on the other side. "Jack. I can't reflect. I can't look into myself. I need answers. I need explanations that I don't have. You do, you have the answers. I… want you to show me! Tell me! TEACH ME! I can't… I…I'm begging you."

Jack was immediately on his feet with these words and walking for her room. Samantha, in the meantime, had given up the notion that he could hear or see her, and sat down on the side of the bed, exhausted. After a couple minutes past she heard the door open and Jack appeared. She stood and walked towards him.

"I thought you might like some tea," Jack said, smiling and surprisingly not trying to avoid her glare. And she did glare, furiously, as he poured a cup for her at the table, then calmly passed right by her and placed it on her nightstand. "You should really rest, Samantha."

"No more!" She shouted suddenly, her lungs collapsing under a single heavy sob. Jack turned from the nightstand quickly, his eyebrows furrowed, a look of surprise in his eyes.

"You have to tell me!" She was completely collapsing, tears flowing freely, her breath wincing. "You never answer me! You always give me some riddle to work on, some clue to chew on! It's not just another case anymore! You're not just a case! You've gotten in my head! You're in my head! I need answers! Please, God, Jack, Explain-" Samantha started to break down. Jack took a step towards her, a smile growing wide with triumph on his face.

"No!" Samantha took a step back. "No games! That smile! Your games! You can't do this to me! Please answer me! ANSWER ME! What do you want from me? In the loft, I asked you if you wanted to be close to me, but you wouldn't take my hand! You've never even touched me with a gloveless hand! You don't want to be close to me, but you invade my life! You praise my intellect, my intuition, but that hardly explains what you've done to me! Isolating me, even from myself! To what end! I asked you, why me? Why me? And you never have a straight answer! I asked you in the train station and you gave me scriptures and riddles! I asked you in the loft and you said you 'knew from the first moment you saw' me. That isn't good enough! God damnit, Why me!" Samantha was shouting at the top of her lungs.

"Because we're kindred, Samantha!"

"No!" Samantha pointed a finger at him. "Don't say that to me again! Don't say that to me! You took everything from me!" Sam began to break apart. Her voice was weak and high pitched. "All the lives you stole from me!" And as Jack drew a breath to make his predictable come back, Samantha silenced him with a wave of her hand. Jack grinned and waited attentively. She breathed deeply but unevenly, trying to gain her composure. "More than that. If those lives were necessary to get through to me, because I know that's what you're going to say… what about me, huh?" Samantha unconsciously took a step towards him, glaring furiously into his eyes. "What about the remorse… the pain, the tears, the heart wrenching depression that you instilled in me! All the days I sat listlessly for hours, wished I could just die in my sleep, all the times I blamed myself for the way Chloe lives, all the times- all the times I, I lost faith in the presence of my very soul- I lost myself to you, I lost all of me-" Samantha could barely breathe.

Jack, at this very moment, at these last words, grew full of rage and lust for her. He took two heavy strides and grabbed her wrists hard. Samantha recoiled, shocked at the touch of his burning hot palms, and pulled her hands into fists, fighting back against the grasp. But it was his glare that stopped her, the pure rage of his eyes that stopped her in her tracks. "But it was I that lost myself to you!" Jack said in an angry, raspy growl. "I saw you, I saw you and I knew-" Samantha began to fight again as Jack began, and his iron grasp tightened around her wrists. "We are the same- just as you profiled me, I saw through you. I saw you, and I knew you. Don't you dare tell me your soul is lost. It's the raging fire of your soul that I see, that no one but me sees!" Samantha became violent and attempted to kick him. In the midst of the frenzy Jack pushed her body against the bed to prevent the blows of her legs coming at him. And then, just then, something sent him right over the edge. Samantha clenched her teeth, pushing against him with all of her might, and she growled, an angry, primal growl from the depths of her chest, of her soul.

Jack, holding tight to her wrists, pushed her head onto the pillow with her wrists over her head. "Succumb," he muttered in a whisper. Samantha continued to resist him but as her rage increased, an animal like lust overtook her body, and against her mind, she found her blood pumping down through her as Jacks knee pushed up between her legs. "Succumb," he repeated, low and impatient, his hot breath hitting her face, the smell of roses and tobacco engulfing her. Samantha pushed in vain with every ounce of her strength against his body, trying to throw him off, her wrists burning under the pressure. Suddenly, amidst the struggle, Jack lowered his mouth to her clenched teeth, and she instinctively and greedily opened her mouth to his. His tongue rolled across hers and she violently responded, fiercely kissing him. The kiss was broken by a deep breath out with a moan. Her groins suddenly pounded insistently with his knee wedged so close against her. As he let the violent grasp on her wrists loosen Samantha freed her hands and began tearing the buttons from his shirt. Jack did not leave her eyes for a moment as he pulled the belt buckle of his pants and began to remove them. Samantha pulled off his shirt, sat up to meet his chest, and ran her tongue against the line of sweat trickling down his chest as Jack pulled at the pants. Kicking at his shoes he placed two fingers of his left hand between her legs while throwing his pants across the room with his right hand.

Samantha's back curved and her head fell back as his fingers met the right spot of her body. He looked down for a moment at the shifting of her hips then moved his gaze back to where her eyes had closed and fallen back. He bit at the corner of her rounded neck, pulling with his right hand at the silk of her gown, then removing his left hand from her and dragging the fabric off her tremoring body. Samantha straightened her back and lifted her eyes over her head as he removed the gown, throwing it to the side. Samantha followed the path of the gown for only a moment, before her eyes clasped shut as Jack's lips and teeth fell to her breasts. The pounding of her veins increased and her skin began to boil. She reached her right hand down around his shaft and closed her fist around it, and began to pump it slowly, her hips motioning upward. Jack's eyes closed and he lifted his lips, moaning uncontrollably. He drew a hot breath to her neck and whispered, "Tell me, Samantha." He bit on her ear. As he said this he placed his fingers between her legs as before, and Samantha moaned and her breaths became short and shallow as he drew circles with his fingers. With a hard fist wrapped around him still, Samantha finally met his insistent gaze.

There was nothing left to say. Tears filled her eyes. "You're mine," she uttered under her breath, and immediately he thrust forth, deep into her. The warmth of the union caused both to moan, and Jack put his hand to her face as his rhythm increased. Almost immediately, Samantha's back began to recoil as her body entered its first climax. Jack slowed his thrusts to take her mouth to his and feel her tongue against his, and as Samantha's body relaxed again his hand followed the sweat covering her back with a wet hand, thrusting deep as Samantha lifted her hips once again. Jack's body worked into faster, pounding motions, and his breath became rapid and coarse. He put both hands behind her back as Samantha reached her arms out behind her to stable herself. Once again, her body arched and she threw her head backwards. Jack ran one hand across the contours of her stomach, up along her rib cage and between her breasts, grabbing her throat and pulling her forward. Samantha felt a fire set off all over her body, and for the first time in that week, her mind was truly clear. Jack kept his eyes on her, clenching his teeth as his pace intensified. A full groan bellowed from his chest, and he supported the lower arch of Samantha's back as her body fell back onto the pillow and her arms reached back and grasped onto the pillows. Jack quickly put his hands over hers and clenched their fists together, rocking her aggressively with quick, steady momentum. Finally, Samantha's body tensed and Jack pushed as hard and as deep as possible. "Samantha!" He shouted skyward at the blue lights as Samantha's moan became a full pitched yell. In her second climax Jack pushed so fiercely into her that he knocked the breath out of her entirely, coming deep, deep into her body.

As he pulled out of her slowly, cautiously, he could see tears rolling down Samantha's wet cheeks. Overtaken, he kissed at her cheeks, licking up each tear as it rolled out from her eyes. Samantha's breathing came down, her moaning hushed, and she turned her head towards his lips, taking them slowly and intentionally, wrapping her tongue around his with calm passion, as the tears continued to fall endlessly from her eyes to her cheeks and from her cheeks to the pillow. There were no words left. No questions left to be answered. No questions left to be asked. Samantha cried into his mouth, the saline taste touching his tongue. Jack finally finished the kiss, rubbing his wetted lips across hers lightly before lifting his head and lying it beside her. Samantha turned her body away from him. Jack tugged at a sheet that had become tossled in their encounter, enveloping their clammy skin. Samantha closed her eyes and willingly let Jack pull her body to him, wrapping an arm around her. He laid a soft kiss on the back of her neck, exhaled onto her cooling skin, and with her falling into sleep, closed his eyes, and let himself drift into a solid rest, his life and love lying in the comfort of his embrace.

Samantha woke slowly. As one eye opened she immediately noticed that the blue lights were off, replaced by the artificial light of day. Samantha turned over. An empty pillow lay next to her head, the sheets turned aside. As she stretched one leg, she realized she was naked. The memories of the night before poured back on her and she closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. She lay like that for twenty minutes, then sat up, slowly, and wrapped the white sheet tightly around her body. The scattered clothing had been picked up and folded into a neat pile in the corner of the room. Samantha stood, every muscle of her body aching, turning the sheet and securing it around her. With soft steps she walked like this into dining room. There was Jack, in a white terrycloth robe, sitting across the table facing her, his eyes staring at a cup of black coffee in a dark blue mug on the table. He raised his eyes as she stopped to look at him. The melancholy expression of his face hit Samantha and she too frowned and approached him, sitting down slowly across the table. Jack watched her carefully, and stared blankly into her eyes as she seated herself and looked at him. He pushed the half finished cup of coffee towards her. She put both hands around the mug. It was still quite hot. After a small sip, she placed the mug back to the table and began to open her mouth, although she immediately closed it again when she found could not find the words. In the light of day, Samantha's passion had subsided, replaced by a dull sense of grief and an overwhelming longing to see her daughter.

Jack seemed to read her mind. Indeed, staring blankly into each others eyes, it was clear to both of them that something had changed. A new chapter had begun. It was no longer a sexy game of cat-and-mouse. The blue light had cleared, and everything was out in the open. Jack's frown deepened and he looked down at the table. "You could use this against me, you know." Samantha stared at him in confusion. Jack met her eyes. He cleared his throat, and spoke in a monotone voice. "You have no prints, few traces, on any of the crimes I committed…in your honor…but this…you could use." His raspy voice was strangely soft and low. "If you have a killer instinct. And I suppose that is what I've been trying to unveil all along."

Samantha rubbed a finger around the rim of the coffee, her eyes welling slightly. It was true. The Lucas case would probably not have turned out in her favor if not for Lucas' sudden confession. But now all Samantha needed was a rape kit and she could put him away. The idea sickened her. There was a painfully long silence. "…But I don't." She raised her face and looked directly into his eyes. "That is where you misprofiled me all along. I have no killer instinct."

"No, I didn't profile you incorrectly. I suppose… I always knew that you weren't a killer. I always knew." Jack shook his head. "That vitality in you, I cannot mold it. You were more alive last night…" Jack stopped and waited for her to pick up for him. She sat silently. "More alive then you were with a gun in your hand. Your heart cannot be molded. I can't change you…And I no longer want to."

A few tears rolled down Samantha's cheek. "The game is over. And, to my surprise, you've won."

Samantha stood suddenly, and walked around the table, falling at her knees before him. She remembered the scripted conversation he had once wrote for her, the man in the shadows demanding her, "Fall on your knees." Now, kneeling before him, she took his hand, which he had placed flat on the table, and put it on her cheek. He looked at her with sadness in his eyes, rubbing a strand of her blonde hair between his thumb and forefinger. "As it turns out, I misprofiled you…You do have a heart." Jack dropped from the chair onto his knees, taking her face with both hands and kissing her. For the first time in days, Samantha smiled. "It's a pleasure to know that I was wrong." Samantha took his face into her hands as he held hers, and put her lips to his forehead. Then, for the first moment in his adult life, Jack let someone witness a tear roll from his eye. Samantha caught it in her mouth, savoring the rare taste of his love and his pain, and embraced him.

The rest of the day required no discussion. They both knew the game was over. Samantha was no longer capable of hating him. In fact, in her heart, she had forgiven him for everything. But Chloe needed her, and Samantha loved her more than anything. As Samantha showered, Jack prepared for her departure. As she dressed in the last white cotton dress of Jack's that she would ever wear, she smoothed out the fabric and looked at herself in the mirror, thinking how beautifully it fit her, how suiting the color matched her. She followed Jack out of the hotel room into the loft, carrying in her hands the picture he had framed of her as a child. They drove silently in the car to the airport. Jack pulled into the airport parking lot in his suit and tie, his eyes gloomy and dry. As the engine stirred to a stop, he calmly reached into his pocket and pulled from it a first class plane ticket for home. She accepted it. He then handed her a beautiful black purse. "This… has your identification, your badge, and four hundred dollars." Samantha placed the ticket into the purse tenderly and they both got out of the car. Jack walked around to her side and reached into the back of the top down corvette, pulling out a single rose. "And this… is probably the last rose I'll ever give you." Samantha accepted the rose, gazing at him with watering eyes, and then quickly gained composure and took a deep breath.

"I won't try to find you."

"I know." Jack looked to his feet and back up again. "Tell Chloe… how much you love her. Every day."

"I will."

With that, Jack put a hand on her face. "Samantha…" he said softly, smiling gently, and turned, walking around the car, and driving off into the distance. The game was over, and as it turns out, there was no winner. Samantha never caught Jack, and Jack never changed Sam. The game ended as it should. Years before, Jack had said to her, "I just want you to appreciate me." Now, Samantha finally did. His murders had been heinous, but they were the acts of a desperate man who loved and endlessly adored her. She never trailed him, or revealed any information to the VCTF. Eventually, because Waters refused to be involved, and decided to quit in order to be with her daughter full time, the bureau cut funding on his case, the manhunt for 'Albert Newquay' ceased, and his files remained collecting dust somewhere in the archives of unsolved crimes. And as for Jack… he was never seen again. But on late rainy evenings, Samantha curled up on the couch, opened a book and rubbed her fingers over the last rose, pressed between the pages. And if she closed her eyes, listened ever so carefully, and sought into her soul, she could almost see him, in the somber blue light of a lonely bar, running his finger around the rim of a strong drink, pressing the rose infused cigarette to his mouth, and dreaming of a beautiful woman cuddled on a lonely sofa, her fingers slowly stroking the petals of a lifeless rose.


End file.
